


What's In a (Last) Name

by damselindisguise



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Best Friends, Dysfunctional Family, Family, Finn Gets a Last Name, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Siblings, Star Wars: The Force Awakens Spoilers, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 22:35:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5558129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damselindisguise/pseuds/damselindisguise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He used to be FN-2187. It was enough when he was Finn. Now these Resistance people want to know his last name, but he really doesn't have one, so he presents them with his numbers instead. Finn Twenty-One-Eighty-Seven. That's not good enough for Poe Dameron. No sir; Finn needs a real last name, and if he gave Finn his first name, he'll give him a last one, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's In a (Last) Name

**Author's Note:**

> ((A/N: I own nothing besides my own ideas which is definitely not Star Wars (that's George Lucas and JJ Abrams and others) and make no profit. I'm trying my hand at Star Wars fan fiction for the first time! This ship took me and ran away with me, so here my first probably-one-shot for it is!))

Finn wakes up to Poe Dameron sitting by his bed side reading a manual on X-Wings that the former Stormtrooper is dead certain he's read before about a thousand times, but when he moves he stops worrying about that thanks to the burning, itching feeling on his back that has him starting and snarling in the back of his throat, muffled, eyes closing again against the pain and the bright white lights buried in a duracrete ceiling overhead. 

"Buddy!" Poe realizes, popping to his feet, and Finn didn't know he had a headache until the loud voice that otherwise he'd be glad to hear echoes in the med-bay. He groans, gripping his temples and slitting one eye at his friend, giving a quick glance before closing it again.

"Where am I?" Finn asks, licking around the inside of his mouth, feeling like cotton, tongue swollen, and is surprised to hear his voice is as hoarse and high as the TIE Fighters' whining engines. He winces at the feeling in his throat. He thinks of Rey, and would ask about her if Poe wasn't up and moving already. 

"The Resistance base," Poe clarifies, "The med-bay part of it. Here's water, by the way." Finn looks again- the pilot is offering him a little durasteel mug looking thing with the water in it, so he quickly takes it and drinks it, pausing halfway through, survival ingrained in him having told him to slowly drink his water after a long time without. Even then, its gone in a few gulps, and he offers the mug back half-hopefully. Not all his tendencies are gone, and he was never given more than a single drink as a Stormtrooper.

Here, though, Poe turns and uses a little jug to refill the mug before passing it back so Finn can down more, the liquid like velvet to his parched lips. He sighs with relief and leans back again, pressing his scalp to the pillows, cooler, beneath his head.

"Did we get the base? Kylo Ren?" Finn assumes they must have gotten Starkiller, or else he would have woken up dead. Kylo, he's not so sure about.

"Starkiller Base, yeah. It's gone, thanks to you and Rey and Chewie and... Han. Kylo, not so much. We don't know if he's still putting around out there somewhere, or if he burnt up. I've got my cards on him training up to come back swinging. Better hope Rey's ready, huh?"

"Rey?" Finn asks, confused, and then realizes his lightsaber is nowhere to be seen, and neither is his close friend, "Where's Rey?"

A flicker of something Finn can't identify crosses Poe's face before it smoothes back to his comforting, open expression and he shrugs, speaking, "She went to find Luke Skywalker. After Kylo took you down, she dueled him. Turns out she's some kind of Jedi Protege something-or-other, so she ran off to train with him. Took your lightsaber too, buddy."

"Oh," Finn says, "That's okay. I wasn't very good at it, anyways."

"I'm sure you were fine," Poe says, and they are silent- the pilot bites his lip for a moment, and Finn wonders why he's doing that. It seems like an odd thing to do, and its very eye catching. Finn hasn't ever bit his lips like that. Then again, he was trained out of any such habit as a Stormtrooper, so he has no idea what he would do if he had any habits. Maybe he would bite his lips, too. Why is he thinking so much about this?

Finn doesn't know.

A squat, stout little medical droid rolls past, white with red tinging, and stops to examine Finn, its head twisting side to side before squeaking in binary and rolling away again, returning with his clothes- still smelling of smoke and with soot stains, but the back of the jacket stitched shut as it rests against his thighs. 

"Hey, your jacket," Finn says, "Someone fixed it."

"Your jacket," Poe reminds him, "I fixed it up for you. Had a kit, and nothing to do while I sat here." He shrugs, eyes passing to examine the area over the former Stormtrooper's shoulder bashfully. 

"Thank you, but, uh," Finn starts, confused, "How long was I out?"

"Something like three weeks," Poe estimates, and the droid makes an affirmative sound, presenting a data pad to write up the release form to Poe, who glances at Finn and puts down the information he knows on the Stormtrooper. No need to strain the other man and his aching head any more than they have to. 

"That's too long," frowns Finn, eyes turning to his clothes as he stands very slowly, back burning, itching, aching, and starts kicking out of the weird slipper things they have him wearing. 

"You needed time for the bacta to work," Poe reasons, "Besides, you'd have been in agony if you'd been awake. Trust me, those kinds of burns are no joke."

Finn wonders momentarily if Kylo used his lightsaber on Poe during the torture, before FN-2187 saved him, before he had a name, and then dismisses it. He doesn't really want to know, and doubts Poe wants to tell him, anyways, anymore than he wants to relive being FN-2187 instead of Finn- being a Stormtrooper instead of a man. 

In any case, they are close, but now is not the time or the place, and he's not sure if they're that close, anyhow. 

He manages to get himself into his pants and shoes with a lot of grunting and hissing and making faces, Poe looking on doubtfully as the medical droid swivels between them, silent but clearly thinking something of the pair that it doesn't voice in binary. Once Finn gets to his shirt, though, he has a problem, finding his back can't handle the shifting. He hunches over the bedside, panting, almost overwhelmed by the pain in the massive burn down his back.

Then Finn feels something heavy and cool draping around his shoulders, the brush of a soft shirt against his arm, and sees that Poe has tucked the former Stormtrooper's shirt into the pocket of the jacket and then put the garment itself around his shoulders. "You just got out of the hospital, Finn," he reasons, "No one is expecting you to be walking around in full dress up. Let's just get you to your room first, yeah?"

"Yeah," Finn says, relieved, and nods, not thinking anything of Poe's hand hesitating and then not leaving his shoulder, though the momentarily draped arm does recede. 

He is comforted by its warmth and weight and the feeling of the callouses of the pilot's hands rubbing on the leather, and nothing of any other sort occurs to the former Stormtrooper that day or for any number more.

~

It may have been a few weeks, but Finn knows he's still a bit of an enigma around here- most people know now he used to be a Stormtrooper, and though the vast majority see him as a hero, there are still some who give him a wide berth, like his conditioning could come back any time. Stupid thought if they knew how it worked, but people don't really get it. Finn doesn't intend on going Stormtrooper again any time soon- or ever, actually, in his life's remaining years or however long.

Those who have warmed up to him call him Finn, just like Poe, and apparently word has spread they are friends, because people have started to ask him where to find Po when they can't find him- to the man's own bemusement, he normally knows, too, and can direct them that way. He didn't realize he had memorized Poe's schedule until then- or that he kept track of the off days when the pilot was off doing something different. 

In any case, one day he's wandering through the hanger, intent on finding something to eat, internally remembering the chalky, boring, but substantial meals they had in the First Order and comparing them to the less regimented but tastier Resistance grub, when he hears someone call his name- its the boys from Imago squadron, to his surprise, but he heads that way all the same, always glad to lend an ear to anyone. He smiles at them a little bit as he approaches, digging his hands out of his pockets where he had placed them- a cold has settled over the base as the later seasons of the planet set in- so he can extend one for a handshake.

"Titus Solas," the first one says, meeting Finn's eyes, "You're Finn, right?"

"Definitely Finn," he introduces himself, confused at the need for it at all, considering, "I don't think we've met."

"Finn?" they ask, brows furrowing, "You got a last name?"

Finn freezes. He hasn't considered this point. He hadn't signed himself out, so he hadn't had to write anything on the lines on the data pad, so the former Stormtrooper hadn't even considered a last name yet. Don't they know he used to a Stormtrooper? They must. 

Are they pulling his leg?

Finally, Finn decides the best course of action is to recite his numbers, because its the closest thing he's got to a last name, so he pastes on a grin for everyone's sake and rattles off, "Finn Twenty-One-Eighty-Seven."

"They didn't give you a last name," realizes the back-most man of the group, "Man, sorry. We didn't think."

"It's okay," Finn says, feeling confused and small- which is exactly when his savior appears, a hand falling on his shoulder, leading to an arm clad in a thick orange flight suit. 

"Hey, Finn," Poe says, grinning crooked and wide and bright, and it makes the man feel better almost immediately to just have his friend around, "What's up? These sports bothering you?"

"No," Finn quickly says, trying to figure out if that's a lie or not.

"He ain't got a last name, Poe," Titus notes, "What's up with that? A guy needs a name."

"I have a name," Finn tells Poe, though the man has a combination of irritation and guilt on his face that makes Finn think morbidly of Han Solo, old as the galaxy and carrying its whole weight before he fell into the abyss of Starkiller's core. 

"My fault," he says, "You guys don't bother Finn about it again though, yeah?"

"Got it, Poe," they rattle off, dispersing with some child-like admonishment to their gait, casting looks that beg forgiveness at Finn and the pilot. There's definitely a distinct respect they all hold towards Black Leader, even as members of other squadrons. 

"Really, it's okay," the man starts, but Poe cuts him off.

"How's Black sound? Its my squadron." Finn makes a bit of a face. It sounds off to him, and seems a little tacky for some reason. Finn Black. Doesn't ring properly, and has a distinct crookedness to it- plus there's just something wrong about it that he doesn't even want to mention, and that Poe probably hadn't considered until he said it, by the look on his face. 

"Not great," Poe says for him, or, really, for both of them, "Okay, then, let's figure it out. If we got a first name while we flew a TIE Fighter away from the First Order's Star Destroyer we can figure a last one out in the peace and quiet together. Here, let's get lunch. I'm starving. Are you hungry? Sure you are after all that. Let's get some food in you, buddy."

Finn isn't sure what he'd do without Poe looking out for him as they head for the mess, the pilot thinking aloud about last names for his favorite former Stormtrooper. 

~

Rey comes back, with a hero's welcome, in the Millennium Falcon, its weighty mass coming down on the landing strip without warning one snow-dusted afternoon, with an unexpected visitor. Of course, everyone sort of knew Chewbacca would be coming down from the ramp with R2-D2 in his wake, but no one really expected Rey to descend with a robed old man behind her, his eyes looking tired but light all at once as they scanned the group.

Beside Finn, on his left, General Organa makes a tiny gasping sound at the sight of her brother and then, voice breaking, exclaims, "Luke," and heads towards him, her hands coming up. Automatically, the Jedi tilts his head, a happy look coming onto his expression, but sad in the same manner, and they embrace. Finn looks to Poe, at his right hand, feeling like this is a reunion, a moment, that the base has no reason to share... but here they all are anyhow.

"You're home," she says to her brother, quiet, and the whole Resistance seems to be silent.

"I'm sorry about Han," Luke finally says, and everyone has a collective shift of respect and remembrance- hands going to scrub at eyes, or tugging at hats and helms with respect. They didn't know him, and most still thought him a scoundrel all those years later, but his final mission- his final sacrifice- had made him a hero to them all. To the whole damn galaxy. 

Finn wishes he was that brave. 

Luke and Leia embrace again, and there is a muffled sob. This time, everyone does turn away. Leia and Luke deserve their respect where its due, and watching them cry for a brother, for a soulmate, lost, is not that respect. They all dismiss themselves to their own corners of the base, Poe bumping Finn's shoulder and giving him a funny looking smile before leaving him alone to see Rey. 

Finn doesn't think the smile looks too real, but forgets it quickly in the face of his friend's return from whatever ass-end of the galaxy she had run off to. 

"Rey!" he calls, startling her as she is scanning the crowd- probably looking for him, in all honesty, he thinks. 

"Finn!" she exclaims, her accent as he remembered, her face lighting up with glee at the sight, and hurries over to him. He grabs her hand instinctively as soon as she reaches him, and drops it just as soon, when she levels the usual glare at him. 

"I missed you," he says, and then something occurs to him, "Can I ask you something?"

"What?" she asks, befuddled.

"Do you have a last name?"

"Yeah," she says, "Everyone does. You need one, still?"

He nods, mute, and she gives him a softer look, sympathetic and sighs. 

"Poe can help you," she says, "Trust me, I'm not someone you want looking into family business. Enough of those problems myself, Finn."

He nods, a little disappointed she didn't share her last name, but goes along with her as she starts telling him what she's learned while she was away- how much new stuff she has to show him, and tricks Luke has shown her that she wants to relay to the former Stormtrooper.

All the while, he's thinking of names. None sound right. So what will?

~

"How about Skywalker?" Poe asks him one day, when the sun is shining down on the runway outside, and they are standing at the end in thick winter clothes, the pilot scrubbing his beloved Black-One down with suds and melted snow-water. Luke and Rey are a few meters away, training half-heartedly in the cold, probably finishing for the day, and he casts a look, a crooked, toothy grin, in their direction, catching a look from Luke, who looks between them carefully.

"I don't think Luke likes that idea," Finn whispers furtively, and the old man shakes his head with some sense of age and a chagrined but accommodating smile, and waves Rey off, passing them by.

"Skywalker is not a name you'd want," he assures Finn, and the lightness in his tone cannot cover up a real meaning betrayed by what the words mean- its a burden to be a Skywalker.

Finn Skywalker isn't a name he thinks rings in any case, as it is. 

Poe's other two suggestions of the day, equally as off-hand and funny, Finn Solo and Finn Organa, don't quite work for him, either, not that he thinks Leia would tell him no if he asked. Something about her just makes her accept him automatically. He doesn't know what it is. Its something that sounds bent- crooked, he just keeps going back to that word, thinking of dented armor and scraped white turned black on a Stormtrooper helmet, dutifully scrubbed off after a mission because that is their way- methodical, an army of perfect white. 

The only thing crooked he knows that he likes is Poe's smile, because it just works- which is odd, but he never thinks much more of it than that, so he doesn't ever really notice it beyond the barest thought.

Rey comes over by them and leans on her old staff, winded, with her cheeks pinked by the cold, and Poe's eyes dart between them in a way Finn only sees him use when the girl and he get too close together. That doesn't really compute for him either, because he's began to identify the feeling, but can't put a name to it. He can just see it is there, some sort of heavy feeling, like a sigh unreleased from Poe's clad shoulders, orange and puffy with the flight suit on as he ratchets something on the X-Wing before polishing it clean again. The closest word Finn can find is jealousy or something, but he doesn't see any reason for all of that here. 

"How about we all get a bite?" Rey offers, giving a little grin and eyeing the both of them like she has a motive in this. Finn hasn't the foggiest what it could be, but nods anyways, glancing at Poe, who looks a little surprised but shrugs and bobs his head with assent. 

"Great," she says, and starts forward, leading them off towards the mess hall, where they all get little thin flimsy metal plates with the latest meal on them and go to sit by the X-Wing again. Poe tucks himself against the side, legs out, and Finn scoots himself right up against Poe's boots with a grin to the man. Rey looks at them in that way again, still not making much sense to the former Stormtrooper, but he ignores it and none-too-gently brushes his boot against Poe's.

"Move your feet, old man," he says, full-well knowing Poe only carries a couple of years on him and Rey, "I've got back issues, you know."

"I have restless leg syndrome," Poe shrugs, shameless, and kicks his feet into the younger man's lap with one of his crooked smiles. Finn leaves them there, glad to see how comfortable Poe is. Of everyone here, he feels like he can be the realest him when he's with Rey and Poe. They know him and accept him for exactly who he is, and don't ever shy away like he's going to shoot them for making an off-protocol move. They know him better than that.

So he's glad, even if Rey is giving him that look for the third time in one night. 

He tucks his arms on top of Poe's boots, brushing the soapy water on them with his forearms, and starts eating carefully as he sits there with his best friends in the whole damn galaxy. 

~

"You still need a last name," Poe tells him, something like two months after the night the three of them sit on the runway together, and Finn glances at him, having almost forgotten. They hadn't talked about it since then- in fact, Finn feels like they haven't talked a ton since then at all. 

Poe has been going on lots of missions lately, and always seems preoccupied when he's not busy. The First Order has been getting back to their old tricks, even minus Starkiller base eating up suns and blasting solar systems- not to mention rumor has it Kylo is back on the scene. So, granted, they all have things to think about, but Poe has seemed a bit more pensive than one would expect from him. 

Finn, knowing the pilot, can tell its not just that. Something more personal is weighing on his friend, and he isn't sure what to make of it- and also isn't sure what to say about it. So he's glad when Poe gets back to their old topics, and grins at his friend slowly.

"Yeah," he says, "I guess I do."

At this, Poe's eyes get a funny look in them, warm and considering, and he bites his lip, drawing it carefully like he does sometimes, always befuddling the former Stormtrooper beyond belief, and then he says something Finn did not ever even think of.

"What about my last name?" The words are hesitant in some wistful manner that has a distant sense of some pink form called romance Finn has only heard of once or twice, but he knows it immediately in Poe's voice, to some extent, without really understanding the connotation in its entirety. 

"Dameron?" Finn asks, a little surprised, his voice raising it pitch, and then he calms himself and says, "Finn Dameron."

"Finn Dameron," Poe repeats, "You like it?"

"I do," Finn thinks, and wonders if this is what Poe has been chewing over for the last few weeks. 

"Then Finn Dameron it is," Poe says, and Rey is looking at them now, from her side of their table, somehow having shifted in the last couple of days so that she sits across while they brush shoulders, and the pilot's arm comes up to curl around Finn's shoulders, heavy and warm even through the jacket, the nylon of his flight suit brushing the leather of the jacket loudly as he wraps an arm around the former Stormtrooper quietly and Finn just knows something has shifted. 

He's okay with that. 

**Author's Note:**

> ((A/N: That was a very understated ending, but I suppose it got the point across! Hope you liked it! I might write more, but for the moment this is a one-shot. :) ))


End file.
